Jeckyll and Hyde - Part One
by partsguy
Summary: After years of trying to make it work, Endeavour and Joan have finally made it work. Joan's children are grown now and in some ways life has come full circle.


**Jeckyll and Hyde - Part One**

As the car came to a stop, she pushed open the door as she called over her shoulder "come on old man!" She climbed out as gracefully as she could, making sure she got her feet planted securely on the dampening pavement. Looking up the alley she could see that the sign for the shop was about a hundred meters up away. More important than the distance was the fact that the alley sloped upward, and water was already running down in rivulets. Although there was only a light rain falling now, if she didn't hurry, she was almost certain to get a drenching. It hadn't been her idea to come here to begin with, and without an umbrella, she was in no mood to wait around for him. So without looking back, off she went, making the best time she could in the low heels she was wearing.

Partway up the hill she looked back and almost laughed at the forlorn figure that was just beginning to struggle up the incline in her wake. She paused long enough to cup her hands together and once again shout "Come on old man!" before turning and making her way the remaining few yards. One of the advantages of her relative youth had been that it allowed her to make it up the hill and into the doorway before the rain became a downpour. Her hair, always her biggest concern, had only gotten slightly damp before she reached shelter. A quick shake of her head, much like a dog coming out of the water, threw off the bigger drops, she could deal with the rest latter. As miffed with him as she was, she still stood holding the door open, waiting for him. Why she did it was beyond her, he would likely chastise her for it, saying it had been unnecessary. Well tough, she could see that what had begun as a drizzle was starting to come down harder by the moment, he ought to be grateful. Despite taking what shelter she could the dampness was beginning to become uncomfortable. If he didn't hurry up, they would both be soaked to the skin before they could get inside. It was all so unnecessary, if he was so dammed determined to make this trip; all he had needed to do was let the valet park the Jag. Then they both could have made a run for it before the rain picked up. But of course that wasn't his way, he wasn't turning some pimply faced teenager loose with his pride and joy. As a result of the lost time, and their mutual stubbornness it was likely that they would both soon be wet and miserable. At least until they could find a place to get dried out, which could be several hours from now. In addition the owner of the shop would almost certainly be upset. Not just because of the occasional gust blowing a little rain over her threshold, but they would almost certainly drip water all over her lovely carpet. Still as she watched his tedious efforts none of that was of the slightest importance to her. Yet despite the situation there might still be a silver lining to this day. She could forward to being very creative as she helped him though the process of getting dry together.

While she waited, she tried to find as much shelter as she could, doing her best to avoid both the drip from the overhang and the spatter of water which bounced up from the pavement. From somewhere further inside she heard a less than friendly female voice screeching that she should "shut the bloody door, you dam fool!" She ignored the woman, not even deigning to turn her head. Her only concession to retreat inside just a bit more thus reducing the gap for the rain to blow through. But not so much that she couldn't peek around the edge of the door. Watching him get ever closer as he made the best of it, struggling up the hill was almost painful. His only protection from the rain was his jacket collar which he had turned up. By the looks of it all that this was doing was funneling the water down his neck. Despite herself she had to smile at the sight, almost willing him to the shelter of the doorway. This entire episode was so typical of him, ignoring personal discomfort, refusing to admit that he wasn't the young stud that he had been when they had first met. Even at a distance she could tell that the effort was taxing him, for he hadn't bothered to reply to her "old man" comment, a term that only she was allowed to use. It had been that way since she had first used that term with him over thirty years before. At that time she had meant to express her exasperation with him. Since that first night the meaning had changed to where now it was endearment between them. One that like his counter of calling her "just a kid" was jealously guarded. None who knew them would dream of using either one in their presence. While the years hadn't changed the terms time had unmistakably changed them. As hard as it was for her to accept, he really was an old man now, and she was long past being a kid.

They really didn't need to be doing this today. If fact if she had her way, they wouldn't be doing it at all. Oh, she could understand that perhaps he might feel that the only way was for him to force the issue. And because she cared for him, despite her feigned anger she would go along. But the woman in her, not to mention the mother, thought that it was a mistake, could only cause trouble. She didn't believe he had thought it through. That it would likely just cause embarrassment, not just for him, but for all of them. Given the opportunity she would rather they spent the rainy afternoon in any one of several more pleasant ways. But she had been around him long enough to know not to bother and waste her breath, for he was going to do this come hell or high water. She opened her mouth to call out to him again, to tell the "old man" to hurry, then decided against it. As much as she enjoyed calling him that, something he seldom took offense at, she knew to use it strategically. Too much would just make him retreat behind that impenetrable shell, as she had seen him do so often over the years. Today would not be a good time for that, it would just make an uncomfortable situation far worse.

As she waited, she thought back to that day, she had been only twenty-three years old then, when she met him for the first time. Oh, she had known of him before, if only by reputation. She and some girlfriends had been on a final summer holiday at the beach. That vacation would mark the end of her carefree life, it was time she began to deal with life as an adult. Her dad had used his connections to get her a job at the bank in the city where her aunt worked. Of course she would likely have gotten it anyway, but dad had wanted to be helpful. One night over dinner her father had broken one of his own rules and regaled the family with tales of the new men who had transferred into Cowley station. He, like all the others was the subject of a brief analysis, none of which were complimentary, and a summary of their brief careers. His was sketchier than most, for he was known to be a very private person, a few years older than most, intense, focused on his work, someone not easily distracted. Even so she had been unprepared for their first meeting at the station. It had happened strictly by chance; he had been talking to her dad when she walked up. The meeting had been brief, and afterwards there was little that she remembered about it. He had been polite, although direct almost to the point of rudeness. But it was his eyes, their unwavering intensity that she remembered. Inexperienced as she was, seldom had anyone, much less an older man, bothered to look directly into her eyes before. It was as if he was seeking something, something that only he understood. They had exchanged a few words, bland pleasantries only, before he walked past her with barely a nod of his head. Still there was something about him, something intriguing. It was all she could do to not turn her head to watch him as he walked away.

The rain was starting to drip from her hair now, she wanted to call out to him again to hurry up, but what would be the point, he was obviously doing the best he could.

That first meeting had been what thirty-three years ago? But it may as well have been this morning, she remembered every detail. Over the next few years, with him now her father's bagman, they had been around each other any number of times. Some, including herself, had thought that the obvious attraction they had for each other would develop into a serious relationship. But for some reason, which for the life of her she didn't understand, it had never happened. Oh they had come to the brink on more than occasion, but never went over the edge. Perhaps neither one of them had the nerve to make it happen. Yet, neither one could completely walk away from the other either.

She had left home and moved away, shacked up with a married man, and still they couldn't break the connection. Her pride had prevented her from reaching out to him. Not to mention the fact that she was in love with Ray, or so she thought. He however had not given up. He had tracked her down and found her, showing up on her doorstep one day. Still she had denied what would have been obvious to any observer, sending him away. Yet, when Ray, the man she thought she loved, threw her out who had she run to? Despite her embarrassment it was to him of course. It was hard to know who was the most surprised that night, him by the sight of her, or her by his spontaneous proposal. As was their pattern she had run from the proposal, returning to Ray. Even so when she had fallen, (or had she been pushed), and gone to the hospital who had she asked them to call? Not her parents, or even a friend, but him.

He had almost made it to the doorway now, and she almost laughed out loud at his appearance. He looked for all the world like the proverbial wet rat. Fortunately she was able to stifle the laugh by looking away briefly so that she could regain her composure. By the time she turned back he had reached the doorway. "glad to see that you were able to make it." The water streaming from his hair combined with the look on his face was enough to warn her to tread carefully for a bit. Truth be told he was probably mad at himself for getting into such a predicament.

Once inside he shook himself, almost as if by reflex before letting her close the door fully. To try and get as much water off as he could he started to remove his wet jacket. But the combination of the soaked cloth and the old wound made it difficult for him. "Here let me help you." Now that she had let the door close behind him, she had both her hands free to help. Reaching up, she peeled the jacket from his right shoulder and grabbing the cuff slid that sleeve off his arm. He was then able to remove the other sleeve without her help. "Thanks".

She watched him open the door slightly, slip the coat though and give it a brisk shake. While the shop keeper might appreciate the gesture, she couldn't help but wonder how much good it really would do. Not that that would deter him from at least going through the motions, few things ever did.

How often had they gone through the motions over the years? Each one wondering if the other really meant what they said or did. They had lived together for a while after her son was born and while he had finished college. Despite the difficulties it was a happy time for them, especially for her. She had a son, and while he was by another man, he had helped raise him as his own. Life was full of promise for her then. It was only his drinking, which had put them in such debt that he was unable to help her which had brought it to an end. It was the night she had taken her son and left that she had called him "Doctor Jeckle and Mister Hyde." No doubt an accurate description of him, it now struck her as funny how the meaning of the term had changed.

Still holding his dripping coat by one hand, he had crossed over to the counter, to speak with the young brunette working there. Despite not wanting to do this she followed him over. Not because she wanted to do this, but to avoid the awkwardness of standing alone. She heard him ask "Is Emily working today?". The young woman looked this soaking man before her up and down as it she couldn't decide whether to answer. Finally she responded, "ah, yes, she is, would you like for me to get her for you?" I cringed at that, expecting that given his mood, his response would be bitter sarcasm. The girl must have thought better of it before he could reply, for she turned and scurried away.

Later we had tried to rebuild our relationship, and at first all had gone well. Perhaps we had finally cracked the code, and this time we would make it work. But it had only lasted a short time before the same old problems reared their ugly heads. Maybe another part of the problem was that both of our lives had changed. He had left the Thames Valley CID for a more lucrative job with one of those government agencies which seemed to thrive in the shadows. She was just starting to climb the ladder of the welfare where she worked. In truth despite a promising start once again it was his drinking which had driven her away.

But that wasn't why he had brought me here today. My daughter and I had become estranged over the last several years. She had, despite my misgivings wanted to pursue a life as a musician. This put her into a lifestyle that was totally foreign to me. Lots of travel, lots of playing music in places where alcohol and testosterone played a huge part in the audience that the band played in front of. And the results weren't always what a mother would want for her daughter.

Standing behind him, watching the self-assured way that he dealt with his surroundings and others made her think back on the next phase in her life. When they had parted for the second time, she had felt that this time they were done. That finally, after all the happiness and heartbreak, they had realized that it was not to be. It had not been long afterwards that she had met Robert, a businessman who in every way was the antithesis of him. There's had been a whirlwind courtship and when he had proposed she had quickly accepted. Their wedding was in her church and it was everything she had dreamt since she was a little girl. Shortly afterwards she was again pregnant, with a daughter this this time, and her life was perfect. Except that it wasn't. Business travel took its toll, he wasn't involved with their child, then there was the infidelity and when Emily was eight, she told him to leave.

As she always did when her life came crashing down and she needed to turn to someone, it was him. This time, perhaps because it had been so long, he was apparently surprised that she had. And for some reason this time seemed so much different than all those before. Maybe it was a case of the third time being the charm. Maybe it was simply that that they were older, that time had allowed the previous wounds to heal, or maybe it was simply that it was meant to be. She wouldn't invite trouble again by looking a gift horse in the mouth, now things were as she had hoped they would be all those years ago, safe, comfortable and warm.

The woman from behind the counter returned and told him "she will be down in just a minute." While we waited, I made small talk with the young lady as we watched the rain continuing to fall. Moments later a young brunette woman came down the stairs and said, "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, can I help you." When I turned to look, mouth open to greet my daughter I had to do a double take. Although I hadn't seen her in some time, I instantly realized that this wasn't my daughter. If this was Emily, it wasn't my Emily. I glanced over and met his look, apparently, he had come to the same realization. We looked at each other with the same question in our eyes, had we been misinformed, did my daughter even work here?

As soon as I was able to regain my composure I had to speak up, "I'm sorry I was hoping to speak to my daughter."

"I see, and her name is?"

Perhaps sensing that I was floundering he interjected "Emily….Emily Prewitt."

The young lady laughed, a carefree laugh, that was almost musical. "oh, I see. That's the reason for the confusion. I'm Emily Miller. Your Emily had to run down to the bank for us, she should be back in a few minutes. Would you like to wait, I'm sure it won't be long? Perhaps I get you a cup of tea, or would you prefer coffee while you wait?

Knowing him I thought surely that since my daughter wasn't here at the moment, he would make his excuses and we would leave. Even though the rain had not let up that wouldn't deter him for a moment once he had made up his mind. What I hadn't counted on was his cursed stubbornness. Having brought me here specifically to have a talk with my daughter, he was going to see it out. Another surprise was that he graciously accepted a cup of tea and began to make himself comfortable. I breathed a sigh of resignation, put on a smile which I hoped didn't appear too false, and asked for a cup of coffee.

While we waited, we took the opportunity to look around the place. The building appeared to be one of those architectural monstrosities built on three levels. Perhaps the reason being that it was on a hill with an entrance cut through a wall which faced an alley. The entrance led to a fairly spartan lobby, the carpet, which was very nice seemed out of place in its surroundings. which only held a handmade counter behind which the person on duty stood. To one side was a small table strewn with pamphlets and flyers advertising various artists and coming events. Behind the counter a stairway led up to what were presumably offices or storage spaces.

To the left there was another doorway with a short flight of steps which led down to what was apparently an area where performances were held. There were lighting poles, electrical cords snaked across the floor to amplifiers and other miscellaneous electrical devices. There was a piano taking up one corner of the rom as well. Perhaps this was where my daughter held her classes and other musicians performed.

Some people belief that there are eddies and currents to our lives. That perhaps there was something to the medieval idea of a wheel of fortune guiding our lives. After all it appeared to be so in my life. I couldn't help but think back to the time when I had run away from home and family after the bank robbery. Finding myself alone in a strange city I had found refuge with an older married man who had helped support me through that dark time. Of course this help came with a price and I found myself pregnant by a married man. Not only a married man but one who would have nothing further to do with me or my unborn child. As always in my hour of need I had turned to him for support.

While we waited, I watched him as he nursed his cup of tea, occasionally sharing a comment with one of the staff, I couldn't help but smile. How different he was from that young constable who had appeared on our doorstep to fetch my father. As the years had gone by, I had watched him grow and mature, becoming the confident, yet abrasive man hat he was today. It seemed like that ever-rotating wheel of fortune had brought us together, then torn us apart many times over the years. I had lost count of how many times I had turned to him over the years. And I could only guess how many times had he wanted to tell me "you've made your bed, now lie in it?" Regardless of whether he had done so, he had not done it yet. And now given where we were, it seemed unlikely that he would. Of course one could never take anything about him for granted. While it was true that, in recent years his health had declined, causing him to have to rely on me more and more, perhaps the scales had begun to balance themselves out. Even so I suspected that they were still far from being balanced.

But he wasn't the reason they were here today. Actually he was the reason they were here today. Just going for a drive he had told her, I need to drive the Jag a bit more he had said. And it was such a nice morning she had agreed to join him. It was only later that she had realized where he was driving them. And typical of him when he set his mind to something, her protests, no matter how vehement fell on deaf ears. Maybe it was the gods getting their revenge that it had started storming almost as he was trying to find parking. The only justice in that was that it was him who had gotten truly soaked, as she had, out of pique, taken the only umbrella before heading for the door.

I felt a gust of cold damp air on my neck as someone hurried through the door to get out of the rain, letting it slam behind them.. "Dam, that's nasty out there."


End file.
